Hold On to Your Kite
by annalieeeeeeeese
Summary: One boy shy, the other talkative and witty, the third boy noisy and nurtured, the fourth a poor little rich boy. The Marauders weren't always as we know them. Documents fifth year 'til graduation. LJ, SBOC, RLOC & PPOC. eadray and eviewray. please?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Cute is What We Aim For. Cue shocked looks and theatrical gasps. Shocking, I know.**

**A/N: Okay, this is my first fanfic. Exciting stuff. This is just an intro chapter, basically wanted to get introductions out of the way- character traits will pop up and be developed in later chapters but I felt that all this information can't just be worked into a chapter. Nor can some of this stuff be inferred. So, I hope you like it. OH and, all lyrics are from Cute is What We Aim For's **_**Moan**_**, (yes, they ARE in order) and I just realised how well it matches the Marauders. Enough from me, read on. Oh, and reviews would be lovely. :**

≠

"**Swoon, this is the same old blood rush with a new touch,"- Cute is What We Aim For**

If you had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry between the years of 1971 and 1978, you would know that the name 'Sirius Black' was synonymous to all of the following: 'bloody sexy', 'shaggable', 'good-looking' and 'drop dead gorgeous'.

Perhaps you would also know, then, that the name 'Sirius Black' was also commonly associated with the words: 'dangerous', 'volatile', 'moody', 'arrogant' and 'bloody idiotic prat'. The last two most commonly emanating from the mouth of the lovely redhead Lily Evans.

For Sirius Black was perhaps all these descriptions at once; he was certainly a good-looking boy with a habit of mouthing off and often landing himself in detention with the reputation of the villainous hero or loveable bully. Sirius Black was a walking oxymoron (although Lily Evans would often do away with the prefix 'oxy') who sauntered through the halls of Hogwarts with his minions causing girls to blush and stomachs to turn acrobats all around as he flashed his famous toothy grin and flipped his hair nonchalantly out of his face.

Renowned Gryffindor beater who was good at everything without even trying, Sirius had accrued quite a following of admirers and was generally beloved by the Hogwarts community, teachers included.

But of course, with an abundance of admirers and a Cassanova-esque status came an abundance of angry, jealous ex-girlfriends and a heart-breaker status. Rumour had it that Sirius Black dated any girl within three years of his age and shagged anything with tits.

This was, of course, not entirely true, but on his part Sirius did nothing to deny or affirm the rumour. It added to his aura of mystery and intrigue, he said laughingly. If there was one thing that someone could say for certain about Sirius Black, it was that he certainly was loyal to those whom he was close to, but he was definitely the wrong person to cross.

Breaking rules and hearts just because he could, defending his friends but torturing his enemies, Sirius was a force to be reckoned with. Reckless, moody and at times completely and utterly tactless, Sirius Black was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's very own rebel without a cause.

≠

"**I am safe, quaint and eloquent,"- Cute is What we Aim For**

Sometimes people get put into boxes that are hard to get out of. Metaphorical boxes, of course, for literal boxes can easily be broken out of using- well, that's another story entirely. But yes, people get put into boxes and labelled with some strange stereotype or another, and then are left to rot while the general community observes them with interest, watching them try to break out of the box but failing miserably.

Remus Lupin was one of these people.

You see, from the time he scored 112 on his Transfiguration yearly in second year, sandy-haired Remus Lupin was put into a grey box with the words 'Hot Nerd' stamped across his forehead in what appeared to be permanent red ink.

True, he was a good-looking boy with probing amber eyes and long-ish sandy hair that curled just right, but Remus hated this title. It meant that people were constantly coming to him to ask for help, and occasionally, answers, for their latest essay or asking if he could _please_ tutor them, because they were miserably failing one subject or another.

No matter how hard Remus rubbed at the bright red stain on his forehead, it neither faded nor shrank- contrarily, it did the exact opposite and as years passed, Remus became the highly intelligent, eligible young boy who the girls showed great interest in but never actually chased.

The class brain and known mastermind behind many a large-scale prank, Remus was regarded as witty with a dry sense of humour, but many a girl was slightly intimidated by the idea of being in a relationship with a guy so clever and secretive. And so, he took on the role of best guy friend, albeit grudgingly and with many a frustrated sigh. A handful of ex-girlfriends and girls in general came to him for advice or help; many a time it was he who reported abusive boyfriends or played the chivalrous Gryffindor.

But he was rarely anything more than a best friend- to the general female population of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin was seen as a pillar of society who knew big words, had eclectic taste in clothes and music and was perfectly safe. Meaning they acted as though he was a eunuch when they were around him, not realising that on more than one occasion he wanted to be a little more than just friends.

But, alas, whoever said that chivalry was dead had obviously not met Remus Lupin.

≠

"**But my bottom lip, along with the top one too is chapped and it's all thanks to you,"- Cute is What we Aim Fo**r

James Potter, cause of many hopeless crushes and late-night gossip sessions. James Potter, owner of many a lipstick stained Oxford school shirt and tie. James Potter, desirer (in the eyes of many, stalker) of Lily Evans.

Gryffindor's golden boy since shooting the awe-inspiring goal that won Gryffindor the Quidditch cup in his third year, James appeared to have everything- a family who cared for him (respected also by the Slytherins, for although his family were considered as toeing the line between respectable pure blood and muggle-lovers, he was a seventh-generation pureblood nonetheless), a large following of girls lusting after him, careless, boyish good looks and a vast array of unusual and effective hexes. Not to mention he excelled at everything he did with very little effort, often attaining an 'O' on exams and essays after 'studying' (or, really, glancing briefly at Remus' notes) for a grand total of twenty minutes before the actual assessment.

Yes, James Potter had it all. Well, in everyone else's eyes, at the very least. You see, moving from girlfriend to girlfriend to girlfriend (to girlfriend to girlfriend to girlfriend to girlfriend...) within the span of a few weeks didn't satisfy James Potter. There was only one girl he wanted, and he wanted her for keeps. But, of course, as Murphy's marvellous law dictates, this girl wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Sometimes James felt that his relationship with this particular girl, none other than the elegant Lily Evans, was a clichéd one of the love/hate nature, and perhaps he was right. Encounters between the two often saw anyone within a ten-metre radius stop whatever they were doing with interest in the hopes of picking up a few new hexes and insults. Not to mention it was free and frequent entertainment.

James Potter was the kind of boy who, once his eye was set on the prize, would not give up until the prize was his. He was the kind of boy who laughed with Sirius Black as they walked down the corridor smiling at friends and admirers but randomly hexing Slytherins or those who had crossed him somehow. James was the kind of person who tried to tell people that it was _Remus_, not he, who had come up with the brilliant notion to attach all the Slytherins to their table in the Great Hall by the seat of their pants, but still got all the credit and admiration nonetheless.

James Potter was the kind of person who, when he grinned recklessly at you and ran his hand through his already messy hair, could make you forget about all his faults and suddenly want to be his friend.

You couldn't help it; James Potter was just the kind of person who was born to be liked.

≠

"**We all wet out lips to prepare for the kiss but it never came,"-Cute is What We Aim For**

Peter Pettigrew learnt about discrimination from an early age when he wasn't allowed on the teacups at his local district fair because he was a few centimetres below the height limit. No one's idea of good looking but nothing that would hurt the eyes terribly to look at, Peter Pettigrew, just like his good friend Remus Lupin had been put into a box and labelled.

However, Peter's box was a bright yellow with red dots, for people saw him as odd and a bit of a laughing stock, and the vivid stamp across his forehead read, 'Tagalong'.

Because although he was, really, an interesting person of above average intelligence who liked Quidditch and girls just as much as the next bloke, he had an awfully embarrassing mother, and, as we have touched on earlier, was not necessarily the best looking bloke.

You see, where Remus' parents sent him 'disappointed' letters after finding about his latest detention and James' parents cut off his pocket money (much to Sirius' amusement) and SIrius' parents were far too indifferent to even care, Peter's parents sent him Howlers. Or, more correctly, Peter's mother sent him Howlers.

More often than not, the flaming red envelope would burst open to the shrieks and reprimandings of his mother with his father coughing uncomfortably in the background and agreeing sheepishly when prompted to do so.

Obviously making the general school population see him as a cotton wool kid, the kind of boy who wouldn't be allowed to date until he was thirty.

And back to the issue of vanity and appearance. Peter was, as has been said, a fairly pleasant looking boy with smiling blue eyes, blonde hair and horrendously pale skin. Although he had few admirers calling him good looking or swooning left right and centre, it could accurately be said that Peter Pettigrew was cute. But cute as in little boy cute, not cute as in fifteen year old heartthrob cute.

Which is never a good thing.

On top of that, while Peter was not particularly porky, he was a little shorter than his three friends and slightly podgy. Instead of sarcasm like James and Sirius or dry wit like Remus, Peter tended to make jokes that one could regard as politically incorrect which made people hold their laughter in for fear of being called a bigot. Peter was scraping 'E's in all his subjects, which no one could regard as poor, but because he hung out with such intelligent and renowned friends, this was a lowly feat.

Introverted and painfully shy, many wondered why Peter hung out with the exclusive club of heartthrobs when he was so different, and many treated him as though he didn't exist or regarded him as an oddity.

Peter may have learnt discrimination at an early age, but he truly _felt_ discrimination during his years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where many saw him as a social retard and few saw him as a friend.

≠

There is one reason why clichés are called so, and it is because they are simply overused. There is one reason why clichés are so overused, and it is because they are nothing short of the truth. So you will forgive me in saying that the four boys only became friends because opposites attract.

One boy shy, the other talkative and witty, the third boy noisy and nurtured, the fourth a poor little rich boy. Separated, the four boys were misfits, social outcasts who may have been loved and wanted by many who were not brave enough to take them in. The boys who would have many admirers but no friends.

But together, the four boys were a fairly odd combination and a foursome to be loved, looked up to, and, in some cases, feared.

Together the four boys were the bane of many a teachers existence; together the four boys were the Marauders.

≠

**A/N: Just a reminder. eviewray. For those of you who are not yet acquainted with the language of pig Latin, that's review. So review. Now! **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISLCAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter OR any of the bands mentioned. Honestly.**

**A/N: Second chapter. Thanks to my lovely reviewers for reviewing that first chapter and thanks to all the people who went and favourited/alerted it. You guys are flippin' sweet! (Yes, I have seen Napoleon Dynamite **_**far**_** too many times.) Hopefully you like this chapter, too, and hopefully you will review, too. ******

≠

"**The facts never matter, and nor does the face that gets saved"- This is Me Smiling**

≠

It was funny, Remus Lupin thought as he made his way down the hideously carpeted corridor of the Hogwarts Express, how everyone thought that he and Lily Evans _must_ be close, purely because he seemed the most likely of the Marauders to befriend her. In reality they were little more than acquaintances, directing the occasional stiff nod at one another in corridors and speaking on a solely academic basis.

Personally, Remus found her constant reprimandings a tad tiresome; and even though he was sure that beneath the stiff upper-lipped, starchy persona, Lily was a lovely person, he couldn't help but think that the girl needed to loosen up a great deal.

Upon returning from the summer holidays, Remus had been asked by many if he knew who his female Gryffindor prefect counterpart was, and even more had asked him if Lily Evans had, as predicted, gotten prefectship. Of course Remus' answer was that he had absolutely no idea and that he actually hadn't kept contact with Lily, because _really_, they weren't that close.

Because no matter what Remus said, or whether facts and reality pointed to the contrary it was still etched into the minds of the students (and even some rather misguided professors) that Remus and Lily were the closest of friends.

≠

"**Feeling the time pass by. Watching the airplanes fly," –This is Me Smiling**

"...patrol begins at seven o'clock _sharp_ every weeknight and concludes at twelve thirty," Remus chuckled as a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect's head slipped off it's perch on her hand and she shook her head, blinking rapidly.

"Alright, Ripley?" the Head Boy, Maxwell McCue turned to look at the girl who had crossed her arms and was staring boredly out the window.

"Yes, I'm fine, sorry," she said, glancing pointedly at her watch. Remus was sorely tempted to take a leaf out of Sirius' book and stage a large theatric yawn to emphasise the fact that half the train ride had now been spent discussing the ins and outs of prefect patrol. But, as touched on previously, Remus was a boy of honour, and didn't often stoop down to the level of such petty antics. No, he much preferred setting things off with a bang and after much more planning. And so he ignored the twitch and eagerness to open his mouth and stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the look of fake interest his not-so-surprising prefect partner, Lily Evans, had plastered across her face.

"Any questions?" the Head Girl, a tired looking Slytherin glanced around the room and Remus noted that several rear ends were suddenly hovering, as opposed to planted, above the itchy wool upholstery of the seats.

"No? Good, you-" she was cut off by McCue, who had peered into a black leather-bound book and emerged with renewed eagerness and zealousness.

"Wait! We hadn't gotten around to Hogsmeade procedures, have we?"

There was a collective groan as rear ends were lowered back onto seats and vacant, glazed expressions once more graced the faces of the youths in the carriage.

"Prefect schedules will be as usual, only beginning at seven in the morning and ending at midday..."

≠

"**It's just a lyrical lie; made up in my mind,"- Cute is What We Aim For**

"It was terrible, honestly. I was quite willing to seize that great rulebook or whatever it was that McCue was holding like it was some sort of prized elixir and just beat myself over the head with it and be done with it," Remus said seriously, picking at a club sandwich. Peter chuckled, although Remus wasn't entirely sure if he was laughing in response to Remus' complaints or the fact that James and Sirius were bewitching their cutlery to wrestle on the table.

"Well, if I were you, Moony, I'd be pretty glad that Prongs hasn't torn you from limb to limb yet, I mean, you are going to spending quite a bit of time with his Lily-dear," Peter said, patting Remus' arm empathetically.

"True," Remus remarked, stabbing a bit of spinach with his fork. Peter really did have some interesting insight sometimes.

"What's true?" Sirius asked interestedly, leaning across the table and resting his cheek on his hand, completely disregarding the dipping bowl he had just knocked over.

"Oh, just the fact that Lily Evans has finally agreed to go out with James," Peter said nonchalantly, taking a dignified sip of water from his goblet.

"Really?"

"Yes," Remus deadpanned. Peter spluttered, spraying water all over the remnants of his steak dinner and showering an unsuspecting seventh year to his left with water and spit.

"Seriously?" he squeaked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No."

"Oh," Peter and Sirius said simultaneously.

"Yeah."

≠

"**You will be the death of me,"- Muse**

"Oh, Potter, not _you_ again," Lily Evans said impatiently, waving James away dismissively, not even bothering to turn her gaze onto him.

Before we continue this story, something must be made known about Lily Evans. She was the kind of person who, lovely and kind as she may be, believed that her and only her opinion was correct. Take, for example, the fact that she believed that because James Potter was quite like an annoying fly whenever in her presence that he was like that all the time. Or the fact that she absolutely _hated_ chocolate frogs with a burning passion and so carried on believing that they were completely and utterly revolting and would not hear a word otherwise.

Quite similar was her attitude to James Potter to the attitude and hostility one would usually direct to a piece of excrement or squashed cockroach attached annoyingly to one's shoe.

James, however, regarded the fair Lily Evans (or so he thought her to be) as little short of a Goddess, cutting her far too much slack than was necessary and bombarding her with date and outing requests.

Presently he had sidled up to her and was attempting to conduct a civil and borderline interesting conversation with the blatantly disgusted red head.

"You see, the Tigers are down at the bottom of the ladder as we speak, but I'm sure that with a few-"

"POTTER, how many times must I tell you, I am not, never have been, and, with any luck, never _will_ be so much as remotely interested in the morose sport of Quidditch, let alone you," Lily said acidly, keeping her volume level in check so that people remained with their attention devoted to scoffing their dinner or sucking the face off their significant other rather than glaring at the two sparring fifth years.

James frowned, "What's the matter with Quidditch? I honestly don't remember you ever saying that-"

"That's because you never listen, Potter," Lilly hissed, "It's always you talking, _blah blah blah_, because you apparently love the sound of your own voice so much. I've been very vocal about my hate of Quidditch, ever since I got hit in the head by that stray bludger, which, if I remember correctly, was brought illegally off the pitch by none another than _you_."

"Besides," she added, "it's such a moronic sport, testosterone flying everywhere- I'm surprised that Catherine hasn't grown a penis yet."

Catherine Simpson was the only female on the tight-knit Gryffindor Quidditch team, and, as reluctant as James was to admit it, Catherine was a fairly masculine girl, and he supposed that some of the cruder and more brutish qualities of the rest of the team and simply rubbed off on Catherine after spending so much time with her.

So instead of voicing this opinion, James decided that it was best for him (but definitely disappointing for the rest of the population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, who were desperately craving some form of entertainment) if he called it a night.

And so, with a sweep of an imaginary hat and a scowl (the latter completely on the part of the ever so refined Lily Evans), James slid back down the bench to sit next to his partner in crime.

I am hoping that you will forgive me for using such an overused description, but I am also hoping that you will agree with me in saying that it is perhaps the most adequate description for Sirius and James, who, short of being joined at the hip (which they were- metaphorically, of course) did everything together (except certain things, such as going to the bathroom and going on dates- well, most of the time, at least).

It would be rare to find the two waltzing (in the most heterosexual manner, of course) down the corridors of Hogwarts without the company of one another, let alone pull a prank or attack an unwitting Slytherin whilst alone. I am hoping that you get the general gist of the idea and once more ask that you forgive me for using such an overused, albeit fitting cliché.

You will also allow me, hopefully, to use a phrase that, while not necessarily a cliché, is certainly overused. That phrase being: A silence fell over the hall as Dumbledore rose to speak.

Here goes.

A silence fell over the hall as Dumbledore rose to speak; his silvery beard tossed carelessly over his shoulder as he beamed at the students sitting fed and watered before him.

"To those of you who are returning students, welcome back to yet another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To those of you who are new, I hope that your stay at Hogwarts will be enjoyable and full of surprises- good ones of course, not the kind that-, ah, it matters not," several students grinned as Dumbledore ploughed on, "I would also like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is _still_ forbidden-" here several students made a show of scowling and groaning, most of this on the Marauders' part- "and that curfew has been moved back-" hopeful looks adorned the faces of several students-"to quarter past eight to allow more time for team sports and clubs to meet. Welcome and congratulations to all new prefects, and a round of applause, please for our Head students this year, Mister Maxwell McCue from Hufflepuff and Leona Edelstein from Slytherin."

There was scattered applause and a few catcalls from the Slytherin table as the two Head Students stood from their places on the house benches, Leona looking as washed out as ever and Maxwell thrusting his chest out proudly, causing a wave of giggles to ripple through the female population of Hogwarts. Yet it saddens me to say that said females were not laughing _with_ Mister McCue; contrarily, they were laughing _at_ him.

"And lastly," Dumbledore said, his piercing eyes twinkling in the candlelight, "I would like to introduce our newest member of staff, who is filling the place of Professor Greyhound as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Please make welcome Professor Alastor Moody."

≠

**A/N: Once more, eviewray. Please? ******


End file.
